The Mighty Redfield
by Arthasvs.Leon
Summary: Chris Redfield goes on a fishing trip, and finds something more terrifying than any Umbrella creation. A slight crossover with The Mighty Boosh.
1. Hi There

**Author's Disclaimer****: **_Resident Evil_ and all of its characters are the material and property of Capcom. And "Old Gregg" is part of The Mighty Boosh.

Chris sat in the middle of the vast lake, surrounded by the calm glassy surface of the water that would have sparkled with the reflections of the sequins in the night sky if it was not covered by a thin cloak of fog.

A gentle sigh escaped his lips as he sat staring into the abyss on that calm night, his hands tightly wrapped around his fishing pole. Chris and Barry had planned to spend the day at the lake, fishing and catching up on old times, but at the last minute, Barry had to cancel. It had to be the first time Barry Burton had ever cancelled a fishing trip in his entire life. Then again, Barry did forget that today was the day the Mrs. wanted him to go for that… special operation.

Despite the fact that Chris did not want to go fishing without a partner, he had no choice on the matter. Leon was out of town on one of his missions, Claire was in some Spanish-speaking country dealing with kids who were the victims of a bio-terrorist disaster, and Jill hated fishing with a passion. That left poor old Chris sitting there by himself, without even a single caught fish as his company.

He had been out there for thirteen hours.

"Fuck this." Chris muttered bitterly and fixed his fishing cap. He reasoned that he might as well return home and began packing his extra gear when the fishing rod began to dip.

Chris smiled widely as the wire tensed and began to sink deeper into the water. He let out an exclamation and shouted, "I got something!" The sleeping forest and still waters gave no hint of interest as he struggled to reel his catch in. "Come to Papa Chris!"

Chris struggled and screwed up his face as he battled the tense wire and struggled to pull the fish up. Never before did anything ever give him this sort of grief, and he secretly hoped that it was the biggest fish he had ever seen, as opposed to the more-than-likely condom-covered shoe it must have been.

The fisherman groaned and let out a yell as he heaved his arms back and pulled as hard as he could. "That's it! Come on!" As the rod tugged up, he could have sworn he heard the popping of a cork and the fog rolled in even taller and thicker around his boat. Chris turned around and watched as the fog rolled and seemed to swallow the small capsule.

A creepy whoosh and the churning of water passed through Chris's ears, and for a moment he wished he had brought his Samurai Edge with him.

Just as soon as the fog rolled in, the mist began to lift, and to Chris's surprise, he was sitting right across from a green-skinned man with seaweed hair wearing a sparkling green suit with a glistening jacket, black shirt and white tie. The figure's pouty, crimson lips opened wide with a grin and it spoke with a thick, cockney accent. "Hi there."

Chris's eyes opened wide with shock and he practically leapt out of the boat. Yet something kept him from taking his chances in the water. Maybe his eyes were playing tricks on him, or maybe he had fallen asleep. As he looked down and saw that the bottom half of the figure's costume was a pink tutu skirt, Chris silently prayed that this was just a horrible dream brought on by too many mixed herbs.

He looked around desperately before asking the figure, "Who are you?"

"I'm Old Gregg." The figure responded. "Pleased to meet ya."

Chris panted, "What do you want?"

"Maybe I should be asking you the same question." Old Gregg answered and pointed a finger to Chris, "Whaccha doin in my waters?" He waved a hand over the misty lake and kept his eyes on Chris.

Chris gulped. He somehow had the feeling that his real intentions were not something this… Old Gregg… did not want to hear. "Nothing. Just… taking in the air, you know? Not fishing."

"Then how come this hook's in my head, fool?" Old Gregg countered and produced a shining metal hook from his hair.

"That's got nothing to do with me, sir!" Chris defended, fearful of what this bizarre creature was intending on doing.

"It's attached to your rod, mother-licker!" Old Gregg accused and pointed to the fishing rod still in Chris's hands.

Chris panicked. He had fought zombies, hunters, tyrants, and even an insane bitch-twin whose blood could ignite and transformed into a flying bug, but for some reason, he was terrified of Old Gregg. "Please don't kill me!" He found himself, quite out of character, pleading. "I've got so much to give."

"Easy now, fuzzy little man-peach, hmm?" Old Gregg said in a soothing tone, which strangely calmed Chris down. He seemed to take in the former S.T.A.R.S member carefully and asked, "You ever drink Bailey's from a shoe?"

Chris felt almost too stunned by the question to even answer, yet he somehow managed to say, "What?"

"You wanna come to a club where people wee on each other?" Old Gregg asked, ignoring Chris's answer.

Chris, totally disgusted by this, answered plainly, "No."

"I'm gonna hurt you." Old Gregg said, his eyes still locked on Chris.

"Excuse me?!" Chris shot out, yet could not bring himself to move.

"I like you." Old Gregg responded, "What do you think of me?"

Chris, still taken aback by this bizarre conversation, could not honestly bring himself to make an opinion. "I don't rightly know, sir."

"Make an assessment." Old Gregg shot back.

Chris took a moment to gather his thoughts and managed to get out, "I think you're a nice, modern gentleman."

Old Gregg pointed a finger at Chris and spat, "Don't lie to me, boy!"

"I'm not lying!" Chris defended meekly. He had no idea how to defend himself now.

"I know what you're thinking." Old Gregg said and stood up, " 'Here comes Old Gregg! He's a scaly man-fish! He don't know me! He don't know what I got!'"

Chris raised an eyebrow as Old Gregg said, "I've got something to show you!" Before Chris could react or avert his eyes, Old Gregg lifted up his skirt, and a blinding ray of light slammed Chris in the eyes. "You know what that is? That's Old Gregg's vagina!"

Chris struggled to look away at the strange, terrifying sight, but felt utterly glued as Old Gregg shouted to the heavens, "I've got a MANGINA!! I'M OLD GREGG!!"

Old Gregg's cries and name echoed in Chris's ears as he struggled to stay awake, yet the odd sights and totally terrifying thing he was staring at now was too much for him. His eyelids became heavy and he felt the force of the light push him down, knocking him into the blackness of his own mind.

All the while, he could still hear the cries of "I'M OLD GREEGGGGGGGGG!!"


	2. BUSTED!

**Author's Disclaimer****: **I do not, never have, nor ever shall! Own the rights! To _Resident Evil_!

Claire and Leon laughed like a pair of hyenas when they stumbled into the house they shared with Chris Redfield. Their cheeks were beet red from the exposure to the elements and their hair still carried a whiff of the exotic location that they went on a "mission" to.

"We need to do missions more often." Claire declared (Somewhere out there… someone is thinking that was a bad pun) and deposited her bags on the living room floor.

Leon nodded and set his own luggage down across from Claire's. "Totally agree." He removed his sunglasses and kicked off his flip-flops before shuffling over to the couch and collapsing onto his favorite spot in the entire house. He spread his arms wide like a hawk on a hunt and smiled at his partner-in-crime.

Claire grinned just as menacingly and found her favorite spot next to Leon, snuggled just under his armpit and resting a hand on his chest. "Maybe we should move the luggage and get changed before Chris gets back."

Leon groaned, "But we just sat down!" He whined.

Claire giggled and kissed his cheek, "And if he gets down and realizes what we were up to, we're going to lying down. Permanently."

Leon gave her a suggestive smirk and said, "If it's with you, I wouldn't mind that."

Claire smiled suggestively and whispered, "You're sweet" and pecked his lips gingerly, "Now help me before he gets back."

Before Leon could return the peck, Claire was already off the couch and sifting through the luggage. He huffed and stood up to take his own parcels, "I don't know why you're so worried. It's not like he's going to find out where we went."

"And where did you go?" The question flew like an arrow and imbedded itself into the wall just between Leon and Claire, who both turned to see the hidden archer.

Jill Valentine stepped into view from behind the dividing wall between the living room and dining room. Her arms were folded across her chest and one of her work heels was tapping the polished hardwood floor with the rhythm of a metronome.

Claire and Leon both let out a soft, mournful groan as they realized they were busted. "Hi Jill." Claire waved. "How was work?"

"Oh it was fine, thank you." Jill fired a volley and leered at her two victims, "So… how did your missions go?"

"Fantastic." Claire chimed in a chipper tone, hoping desperately that they could try to recover from whatever flub they had committed just now. "We helped… lots of people!"

"Yeah!" Leon nodded. Unlike Claire, he knew they were hopelessly busted, and only making it worse.

"Really?" Jill raised an eyebrow in suspicion. "I'm so proud of you both!" Her expression turned to a wide grin.

Claire felt herself turn green as she saw Jill's chesire grin and gulped. "You… you are?"

"Of course!" Jill said in an uplifting tone, laughed and watched the two. The smile and laughter suddenly faded to a menacing, cold stare as Jill pulled out a pair of brochures and tossed them at the two.

Claire and Leon both felt their stomachs fall out of their bodies like cold stones as they saw the bright, clean beach that they had just spent the last week at in Mexico.

Leon was the first to let out a low moan and looked at Claire before whispering, "Busted."

"No shit, Sherlock!" Jill snapped at them and folded her arms tighter against her chest. For a second, Claire thought her breasts were going to pop out of that shirt of hers. "What were you two thinking?! Lying to Chris AND me about going on a mission when you were going on vacation?!"

"Look it was the only thing we could think of to get out of here without Chris wanting to tail us!" Claire defended. Her tone gradually shifted from defensive to soft as she explained, "I mean… come on, you were there at our last vacation! Remember how Chris griped about how expensive everything was? Or how he almost got into THREE fist-fights with people because they said Van Damme could kick Clint Eastwood's ass?"

"Well… that last one is understandable." Leon said. After a moment, the two girls nodded and gave their acknowledgements.

"But anyway, I love him and everything, but he's an uptight nightmare!" Claire said. "Come on, you know him!"

Jill sighed and said, "You know… I'm just upset that you didn't bring me along."

Leon and Claire were stunned by Jill's statement, and found themselves chuckling uneasily.

"Oh come on!" Jill threw her hands into the air, "Aren't I allowed to have a little fun, too?!"

"Not with us." Claire said and looked around. "Where's Chris?"

"Fishing." Jill answered with a huff, "He went to some place called Black Lake. He hasn't been back for a while though." She looked up at the clock, a worried expression on her face.

Claire frowned, "When did he go?"  
"Two days ago." Jill answered and sighed, "I'm starting to get worried."

"Maybe he just got tired and went to a hotel." Leon offered, but the girls just remained silent. Leon shrugged and said, "Why don't we just drive down there and see what's up?"

"Oh yes, and blow your cover?" Jill said and shook her head.

"Call it a friendly visit after a successful mission." Leon said and dangled the keys to his jeep in front of them. "And if we check for him, no speak of the mission?"

Jill smiled and started walking to the door, "You know we don't talk shop here."


	3. Love Games

**Author's Disclaimer****: **Despite all of my best legal attempts, I do not own the rights to Capcom's _Resident Evil_ franchise. Though it IS in the works! P

Chris groaned softly as he finally came to. The world spun and slowly began to steady as he lifted his head from the cold slimy stone floor. A light gasp escaped his throat and he turned over. To his shock, he was laying on the floor of a cave with a slickly pale green and blue light coming off of the walls. He saw the glistening dancing lights of pools of water around him, and frowned as he tried to stand up.  
Chris's head ached and throbbed, numbing all of his thoughts and memories. The memories of his last waking moments trickled into his mind in tempo with the dripping of water off of the stalagmites. His stomach quivered as he recalled the scaly figure sitting in the boat with him, and the horrifying sight he was forced to witness.  
"What's happening?" Chris moaned and rubbed his temple.  
"I'm Old Gregg." A cockney echo shot out of the darkness into Chris's ears. He shot up and turned around, looking desperately for the speaker. "I'm Old Gregg!"  
"Where am I?" Chris asked the voice as he turned around and found himself face to face with the visage of Old Gregg.  
"Gregg's place." Old Gregg said simply, turned, and began waddling away. Chris raised an eyebrow as Old Gregg said, "You've been asleep. Do you want a little drinkie?"  
Before Chris could answer, Old Gregg said, "I'll get you a drink." and dove into a pond. Chris furrowed his brow as the next thing he heard was, "You like Baileys?"  
Chris gaped as he turned and saw Old Gregg, perfectly dry, standing behind a bar with countless bottles of Baileys behind him. Old Gregg popped open a bottle and poured out a liberal amount of the alcohol into a glass. As he poured the drink and walked over to Chris, all the while saying, "Mmmm creamy! Soft and creamy beige!" and offered him the drink.  
A suspicious Chris took the drink and carefully swallowed a shallow sip. "Mmm delicious." He said simply.  
"Do you like Old Gregg's place?" Old Gregg asked. Chris looked around as Old Gregg said, "I've got all things that are good."  
Chris scratched his chest and nodded, "You've… done some nice things with it."  
Old Gregg smiled widely and grabbed a large red stone that was as big as his armspan, yet he held it as though it weighed nothing. "I've got this." He presented it to Chris, "This is good."  
Chris looked at the rock with unease, decided it was best to simply agree with the sea monster, and nodded, "Yeah that's really nice."  
"You can have it." A smiling Old Gregg pushed the rock to Chris, who nearly fell over when the heavy stone was thrust into his hands.  
The oldest Redfield let out a loud groan and struggled with the stone. He felt as though his arms were going to snap off under the immense weight. Luckily, he was stronger than he was 

in his younger years and handed the rock back to Old Gregg, gasping. "I'm fine, thanks."  
Old Gregg shrugged and said, "I'll keep it here for you." as he set it back down where it was originally resting.  
Chris gasped and heaved as he tried to regain himself. When he recovered, Chris let out a couple of deep breaths and asked, "Well? Is that the way out?" And thrust his thumb behind him. He took a few more gulp and said, "I better be scooting."  
The sea man gave him a confused grunt, to which Chris explained, "Got meetings. And… a friend of mine is waiting. So I should perhaps…" Chris began to "be…"  
Before he could finish, Old Gregg pleaded, "Why are you going? We've got everything we need. We've got… Baileys! Creamy." He chuckled softly at the thought of his favorite drink. He noticed Chris was nodding and said, "I'll get you another Baileys!"  
"I'm fine!" Chris snapped in as calm a voice as he could muster. He softened his tone and said, "Thanks."  
"I do water colors!" Old Gregg said and immediately ran over to a large stack of pictures. Before Chris could respond, Old Gregg shoved into his face a poorly drawn replica of a bottle of Baileys with a glass next to it. "That one… is 'Baileys'." He produced a second, larger picture of the same bottle and explained, "And that one is 'Baileys… A bit Bigger'." Finally, he showed Chris a third picture, which was merely a white canvas. "And this is 'As Close as You can Get to Baileys, Without Your Eyes getting Wet'."  
Chris gulped and nodded, "That's… that's nice. That's real lovely!"  
"I got more!" A smiling Old Gregg exclaimed and ran over to a second stack of pictures. Chris frowned when the grinning sea… thing… presented him with a self-portrait. "This… I call this one 'Old Gregg'!"  
Chris felt as though he was judging drawings made by a thirty year old man still in kindergarten and nodded in approval.  
Old Gregg grinned menacingly and produced a second, identical picture. "And I call this one… 'Old Gregg'!"  
He showed Chris a third, full-face portrait and said, "You know what I call this one?"  
A stuttering Chris managed to blurt out, "… 'Old Gregg'?"  
Old Gregg nodded wildly and tossed the pictures aside, "Yes sir! Thank you, sir!"  
"That is… quite a portfolio you've got going on there, Gregg." Chris said in mock approval. "But I really, REALLY have to be heading off so!" he slapped his hands together and gave Old Gregg a wave and said, "It's been good!"  
As Chris began to walk off, Old Gregg cling to the walls and started scuffling over the rocky surface. "We can do some water colors! You and I!"  
"Well that's just great, Gregg!" Chris said. "We'll have to schedule it for sometime this week. Is Thursday good?"  
"How come we can't do it now?" Old Gregg asked as he landed in front of Chris.  
Chris licked his lips and said, "Well, I'm a busy man, Gregg! You know! Chris Redfield, Government agent!"  


Chris, thinking he was in the clear, began to make his way around Old Gregg, when he heard those dreaded words: "Do you love me?"  
Chris froze in fear at the words and said, "Gonna… pretend I didn't hear that, Gregg."  
"Do you think you could ever love me?"  
Chris turned to the squatting figure and said, "Uh… it doesn't really work like that, Gregg."  
"How does it work? Tell me how it works."  
Chris tried desperately to think of how to explain mating and love to a sea creature and shrugged. He thought of his relationship with Jill and said, "Well… you get to know someone. Get together, hang out. See where that goes…" He raised his hands in the air and slapped them against his sides, "I don't know you. Plus I'm in a relationship and I'm not gay!"  
"You know me." Old Gregg grinned. "And it wouldn't be gay. You've seen my downstairs mix-up!"  
The agent shivered at the thought and muttered, "That wasn't something I wanted to see!"  
"That was our first date." Old Gregg said.  
"That wasn't a date!" Chris yelled, "That was an exposure! A horrible, evil, awful exposure!"  
Old Gregg continued as though Chris had not said anything. "You pulled me up with your big strong arms!"  
"Oh dear." Chris muttered.  
"And my mix-up!" Old Gregg began to say. "And you've seen me, and you've known me! And you must learn to love me! I'm Old Gregg!"  
"Yeah! I know!" Chris yelled, finally losing his temper. "You've told me about eighty-nine god-damned times, and to be honest, I find you extremely annoying! If anything… I find you slightly pathetic! So deal with that, eh?"  
"Maybe I will deal with that." Old Gregg said softly, his eyes fixed on Chris. "The same way I dealt with Curly Jefferson." He pointed up to the ceiling, and to Chris's horror, he saw an old man hog-tied to a wooden plaque like a trophy fish with his eyes gutted out.  
Chris turned pale and slowly faced Old Gregg. He decided that a new tactic was called for. "You know… Gregg. Now that I see you, with the moonlight dancing off your seaweed… I can see I'm wrong. Maybe I was too hasty in saying I don't love you."  
"So…" Old Gregg grinned widely, "So you could love me?"  
"Well…" Chris began to explain. "Maybe I was lying to myself because, I was so afraid of that. And you know, when you do love someone, you play a game."  
"Games?" Old Gregg asked.  
"Yeah, you know. Hard-to-Get." Chris said.  
"Love games?" Old Gregg asked.  
Chris nodded, "Yep! Love games, Gregg!"  
Suddenly, an organ began playing a strange tune, and Old Gregg started dancing. "Love 

games… love games…"  
And Old Gregg began to sing:  
_"Do you love me? Are you playing your Love Games with me? I just want to know what to do, cause I need your love a lot! Come on, now! Do you love me? Are you playing your Love Games with me? I just want to know cause I need your love a lot! Oh come on!"  
_Chris felt himself getting backed into a corner by the dancing Old Gregg and started dancing back. _"Moving too fast, this isn't a race. Baby back off, and lower the pace down. Slow it down, give me some space. Moving too fast, this isn't a race."  
_Old Gregg countered, _"__Do you love me?Are you playin' those love games with me?__  
__I just want to know what to do, cause I need your love a lot, oh come on now."  
"Movin' too fast, this isn't a race.__Baby, back off, and lower the pace now.__Slow it down, give me with space,__Movin' too fast, this isn't a race."_ Chris sang.  
_"I'm Old Gregg."  
_Chris shook his head as he and Old Gregg spun in a circle. _"I know what you saaaid!"  
"Come on don't make me beg now!" _Old Gregg sang and grabbed a rock. _"I'm not your regular guy!" _and swung it at Chris's head, knocking him out. _"Don't be shy! Do you love me?"_


	4. The Legend of Old Gregg

**Author's Disclaimer****: **Hi there. I'm Old AvL, pleased to meet ya. I just wanted y'all to know that I don't own the rights to _Resident Evil_, or _"The Mighty Boosh"_, the show that debuted the appearance of our favorite scaly-man-fish with a downstairs mix-up, Old Gregg. I highly recommend you go on Youtube or Google Video and check it out.  
And also, see if you can spot the reference to another classic British comedy here.

**Author's Note****: **I'd like to present this chapter as a present to my friend Hobohunter. Thanks so much for all your support, Mother-Licker :-p

Leon grumbled as he turned off the engine of his jeep and climbed out with Claire and Jill, who were already making their way down the gravel path to the low thatched-roof structure by the lake. As he approached the door, he looked up at the dangling, dilapidated wooden sign with the marked "The King Prawn's Head Pub" with a prawn wearing a crown. Leon shook his head and walked into the pub with Claire and Jill in toe.

As they entered the pub, the trio was greeted by a wave of tobacco and rotted fish guts that plunged deep into their noses and mouths. Claire and Jill scrunched up their noses while Leon closed his eyes tightly in shock. Their ears were assaulted by the cacophony of accordions, violins, flutes, and the slurred off-key singing of drunken sailors and fishermen who belted out their own renditions of songs about fishing and the sea.

Leon, Claire and Jill walked through the crowded, smoke-filled pub and made their way to the dingy bar, where a great burly man with curly red hair and a pipe stood and glared at them, "What do you want?"

Claire gave the man a death stare and asked, "Hi, we're just here looking for my brother. His name is Chris Redfield."

The man scrunched up his face in thought and started mumbling, "Chris? Chris… Chris…"

When it finally dawned on him, the man's eyes grew wide and he exclaimed, "Aaaaah yes! Tall lad with the spiky hair?" When the trio nodded, he leaned in and said, "Gather round and old Colin'll tell you all about it." And pointed to himself.

The trio traded concerned looks they leaned in to meet Colin, who shouted, "YOU'RE BROTHER WENT OUT ON BLACK LAKE!!"

At the name of "Black Lake", the noise in the pub came to a halt with a great gasp and plummeted into the vacuum of a silent abyss. Leon, Claire and Jill groaned in pain as their ears rang violently from Colin's outburst.

"WHY DID YOU YELL?!" Jill shouted and rubbed a finger in her ringing ear vigorously to expel the overbearing sound.

Colin shrugged, "Dramatic effect." And started smoking his pipe as he leaned back.

Leon exchanged looks with the others and asked, "Do you know when he's coming back?"

"He won't be coming back." Colin said simply.

Just as the words passed through Claire's ears, she grabbed the man by the collar, pulled his face close to hers, and growled in a low, threatening voice, "Why… is… that?"

Colin saw the anger and powder-keg of fury behind Claire's sapphire eyes and gulped in terror, "Just… he went fishing… on Black Lake-"

"WE KNOW THAT PART!!" Claire cut in, "NOW WHY WON'T BE COMING BACK?!"

Leon calmly pushed in between them and said kindly, "You need to understand, a few years ago, she spent five months on a wild chase for her brother through three continents."

"And that includes the Antarctic." Claire added, to which Leon nodded.

"And so," Leon finished, "if you would be so kind as to explain WHY is it so bad to be fishing on Black Lake, do tell us now."

"Before I get violent." Claire finished and let go of Colin's collar.

Colin coughed and gasped and said, "You're more insistent than the last blokes who came in here. Alright." He slumped down and said, "Your brother made the most grievous mistake any fisherman could ever make. Fishing. On Black Lake. At night. When the moon is full."

"Why is that so bad?" Jill asked.

"Because." Colin raised his eyebrows dramatically, "Of the beast who prowls the lake during those times."

"What kind of beast?" Leon inquired.

"A demon." Colin answered. "Who goes by the name… of Old Gregg!"

Every fisherman and patron in the tiny pub released a gasp and low squeal of terror at the name of the beast that lived within the waters.

Claire squinted and asked, "Old Gregg?"

"A monster." One of the bearded patrons answered. "Lives in the lake. Some say he's half-man, half-fish. Others say its more of a 60/40 split and a small group think its along the lines of 70/30. Whatever the percentage may be, he's one evil fishy bastard."

"Some say he's a ghost." A third man chimed in. "Can't catch what can't be touched."

A fourth one stood up, "I hear he's developed a taste for human flesh. Only way to net him is to use a child's big toe for bait."

Jill cocked an eyebrow and said, "Wait a minute… first you say he's a man-fish thing, then you say he's a ghost, and now he's a man-eater? Is this supposed to be the ghost of a man-eating man-fish?!"

"Wouldn't be the weirdest thing we encountered." Leon muttered, hoping fully well that he was right.

"If that be true, you must be into some funky shite, miladikin!" Another fisherman in a red-and-white checked gingham dress… and army boots… proclaimed in the corner while eating sprouts with a penguin hand-puppet.

Claire asked, "When did Chris go fishing?"

"Last night." Colin replied, "Nice, full moon. Perfect for spotting Old Gregg!"

"We found this when we went looking for him." A fifth man said and tossed the trio a rumbled beige hat.

Claire caught the hat and gasped, "This is Chris's hat!"

"How do you know?" Jill asked.

"Simple!" Claire explained. "The hat's Chris's size! And beige is one of his favorite colors. Along with this green stripe right here along the brim!"

"You forgot to mention the R.P.D. S.T.A.R.S. insignia with his name right on the front." Leon pointed out.

Claire flipped the hat around to the front. "Oh." She stuff the hat into Jill's bag and gathered the other two in a tight circle. "We have to find Chris."

"Yeah, but how?" Leon asked, "We don't have scuba gear and, last we checked, none of us have a submarine parked out anywhere."

Claire smiled wickedly, snapped her fingers and said, "Leon you're a genius!" Before he could react to the rare praise, Claire broke the huddle and asked, "You got a sub around here?"

"Yeah, in the back." Colin pointed his thumb out the back door. "But take care of her."

Claire nodded and led Leon and Jill to the back of the pub, where they found a long gray submarine parked in the water by a dock. She grabbed the keys from the rack next to the submersible and led them inside.

When Leon finally climbed down the ladder, he asked, "You know how to pilot a sub?"

Claire shrugged, "Amazing what you learn in prison, eh?" and turned the ignition. The engine roared to life as Claire took the helm and pressed the switch to fill the ballast tanks. As the submarine sank, Claire switched on the lights and began guiding the machine down along the rocky bed.

After a few hours, Claire spotted a gaping hole and pointed, "I bet anything that Old Gregg guy is in there."

"How can you tell?" Jill asked.

Leon pointed to the cave entrance, "Is that good enough?"

Surely enough, a glowing neon sign flashed the words "GREGG'S PLACE!!" over the cave, and below flashed "I'M OLD GREGG!!"

Claire smiled softly as she guided the sub in. "Here we come, Chris!"


	5. Story of the Funk

**Author's Disclaimer****: **Hi there. I'm Old AvL, pleased to meet ya. I just wanted y'all to know that I don't own the rights to _Resident Evil_, or _"The Mighty Boosh"_, the show that debuted the appearance of our favorite scaly-man-fish with a downstairs mix-up, Old Gregg. I highly recommend you go on Youtube or Google Video and check it out.

In the four hours after Chris woke up from being knocked out by Old Gregg after their song-and-dance number, the pair had painted over nine thousand water colors of each other, their rock, and various bottles of Baileys. After spending what seemed like an eternity painting with his new… friend… Chris found himself staring down at the halibut laying on his plate and the glass of Baileys sitting in front of him. On the other side of the round table was Old Gregg, smiling warmly at him. "Do you like it?"

Although Chris Redfield loved fishing and eating fish more than most people, he could not help but cringe at the sight of a raw, unprepared fish staring at him. He decided right then that if he ever escaped, he would never eat sushi again. "You've put on quite a nice spread." He nodded and tried his best to smile.

"I took a home economics class." Old Gregg explained. "Got an A+ in it."

"Did you?" Chris feigned interest.

"Made a soufflé as my final project." Old Gregg continued. "Professor said I made the best one in the whole class."

Chris nodded absently and looked around the cave. Old Gregg saw his eyes wander and said, "You look unhappy, Chris."

Chris decided that he could not keep it up any longer and sighed, "I'm that obvious?"

"I could make you happy, Chris. If only you'd let me." Old Gregg said and smiled widely, "Would you like to do another water color?"

"NO!!" Chris said sharply. He realized how harsh he sounded and softened his tone, "Thank you Gregg, but no."

Old Gregg stared at Chris and said, "You know what you're problem is?"

Chris sighed, "What? That I'm trapped in an underwater cave with a mutant sea creature in a suit and a tutu with a freshly killed fish in front of me and I've spent the last four hours drinking Baileys and doing water colors?"

"That." Old Gregg assented. "And you ain't got no rhythm for this. You ain't got the funk. Well I do, Mister."

Chris huffed, "Yes, I know you've got the funk, Gregg. You're very funky. You're funking funky!"

"No." Old Gregg said, "No I mean I actually have THE Funk!"

Chris furrowed his brow and said, "I'm not following you."

Old Gregg smiled and bent down under the table. For a minute, Chris was terrified that Old Gregg was going to try a stunt out of the third American Pie movie before he saw Old Gregg resurface with a large wooden box. "I've got the Funk! Here, in this box!"

Chris stared at the box, completely confused and asked, "What?"

"Perhaps it'd be easier to show you in a little video I have all prepared for this." Old Gregg said and stood up with the box in hand. He waved Chris to follow him, who did so with a feeling of defeat. The two walked down the path into an open cavern with a series of leather love seats and a huge plasma TV. Chris wondered how Old Gregg managed to get all of this stuff down into his cave as he sat on one of the love seats and watched Old Gregg pop a DVD into the side of the plasma TV.

Old Gregg sat down next to Chris and set the box in his lap before playing the video. As the movie played, he explained, "You see, the Funk is a living creature. It's a purple orb about the size of a medicine ball. But covered in teats."

Sure enough, just as Old Gregg said that, a purple ball covered in teats with a smiling face appeared on the screen, crooning and making strange noises. Chris raised an eyebrow in disbelief as the strange creature hopped into a giant platform boot and took off from a planet shaped like a skull.

"It came down from another planet," Old Gregg explained. "And landed on Bootsy Collin's house."

As Old Gregg narrated, the boot-ship landed on a barn and out popped Bootsy Collins dressed as a farmer with star-shaped glasses. Bootsy looked at the wreckage and went. "What the?" before picking up the Funk and staring at it.

"When Bootsy saw those titties he lost his mind!" Old Gregg explained as Bootsy began tugging on the Funk's teats, spraying everything with an inky black substance. "He began to milk the Funk, and made himself a tasty funky milkshake."

"Shit this ball producing some sweet cream." Bootsy exclaimed as he poured a liberal amount of black milk into a glass and started drinking, "Praise the Lord!"

"Wait a minute how did he know that was milk?!" Chris exclaimed, "Just how many people would look at that thing, decide to milk it, and drink whatever comes out?!"

"Because if he didn't, there wouldn't be a plot." Old Gregg explained, "Now please hold all questions till the end of the video."

Bootsy began convulsing and lasers shot from his eyes around corners. Old Gregg continued, "He started seeing around corners and into the future. And then he passed out." The screen turned dark, and suddenly Bootsy reemerged dressed in a green and yellow psychedelic outfit whilst strumming a bass guitar. "When he came to, he was strumming and slapping a bass guitar like some kind of delirious funky priest! He became famous with his band, Parliament, who he produced funk shakes for all the time. He even started making them for the Beegees!"

Chris raised an eyebrow as he watched the bizarre montage and saw all twenty members of Parliament playing hacky-sack with the Funk. "One day," Old Gregg narrated, "They were playing with the Funk on board the mothership. When George Clinton, kicked the Funk clean overboard."

The Funk sailed through the air and landed in the water. Old Gregg said sadly, "That was July the second, 1979. The day the funk died."

"Then how is it still living?" Chris asked.

"I thought I told you about those questions, boy!" Old Gregg huffed and continued, "A few weeks later, I found the Funk in bed with a conga reel."

Chris watched in dismay as Old Gregg appeared and opened a clam to find the Funk sleeping next to a conga reel with an afro, who shouted in a Jamacian accent, "Oh no! I've been rumbled!"

Old Gregg bounced the Funk around, "At first I thought it was a sea anemia, but upon closer inspection, I discovered it was a funky ball of boobs from outer space! I offered to take it back to Parliament, but he said he was done with dat shit, and they were only interested in him for his funky milk." The screen turned black and Old Gregg faced Chris, "So he's been living here with me all this time. And now I have a proposition for you."

"What's that?" Chris asked.

Old Gregg smiled widely, "I know you want out of here. And you know what I want. If you promise to take my sweet hand in marriage, I'll let you leave here with me."

"Oh God…" Chris felt like he was going to be sick.

"Think about it, Chris." Old Gregg said, "We could make some funky shakes and tour the world! You get funky freedom! I get a strong man, to hold me at night when its raining outside!"

"Why would you be afraid of rain?" Chris asked, "You live in water!"

"Exactly!" Old Gregg said, "How would you feel if rocks fell from the heavens on you! That's exactly what it feels like for Old Gregg!"

Chris tried to wrap his mind around Old Gregg's logic, but he knew that was a futile effort. He thought about it long and hard, and realized, it was sadly, his only bet at escape. "Fine." He said, and extended a hand, which Old Gregg bestowed a finger on.

"Thank you." Old Gregg said, "You made me very happy! Old Gregg's gonna pick himself out a nice wedding dress!" He stood up, smiling widely like a hyena and shaking as he moved away. "Crack open a fresh Baileys! I'M OLD GREGG!!" and sprinted away into the dark.

Chris moaned and sunk his face into his hands. God… what did he just do? What horrors did he punish himself for? Suddenly, the box began to shake and croon. Chris looked at the odd movements and, with a slow, shaking hand, opened the lid. To his horror, the Funk was staring back at him, and made a sound that almost could have been a "hello" before Chris slammed the lid shut, his eyes wide in disbelief.

Just then, a loud crash and splash filled the cave. Chris leapt up and went over to the open pond by the dinner table, and saw the hatch of a submarine jutting out of the water. The door opened wide and came down with a crash, and out popped Claire, followed by Leon and Jill.

"GUYS!!" Chris shouted as his heart swelled with relief and happiness. He ran over to the trio before they could gather themselves and cuddled each one of them tightly.

When he had finished hugging them, Claire asked, "What happened to you?"

"And why do you have a wedding ring?!" Jill glared at the band on Chris's hand.

Chris huffed and said, "No time! We have to leave before we see-"

"I'M OLD GREGG!!" The sound of Old Gregg's introduction froze Chris's blood. The others stared in terror and disbelief at the sea man with a white wedding dress.

"THAT'S OLD GREGG?!" Leon was the first one to talk.

"Correct Blondie." Old Gregg said as he approached the group slowly. "And who might you be?"

"We're… Chris's family." Claire stammered. "And we're taking him home."

"I'm Chris's family too." Old Gregg said, "And he's already home."

"No, Gregg. You said we were leaving." Chris said.

"I never said that." Old Gregg defended. "I only said we could get out. I never said you could leave me."

"Look… Gregg…" Chris said as he and the others tried to back away slowly. "I know we had some… times… but, we can't, Gregg. It'll never work out."

"It'll work out if I want it to." Old Gregg said sternly as he slowly advanced on the group. "Because I've seen you. And I love you. And I'll always love you. I'M OLD GREGG!!"

"Would you stop saying that?!" Jill shouted.

"Never!" Old Gregg said, "I'll never love another like I love you, Chris!"

Just then, a hook landed on Old Gregg's hair, and they heard someone with a British accent shout, "I've got something! I've got something! Come to Papa Moon!"

Old Gregg looked up and saw someone sitting in a boat just above them. He smiled widely and looked at Chris before saying softly, "Chris… I'm sorry, but I don't think this would work out. I think I've found my one true one up there."

Chris and the others, who were now completely thrown through a loop, looked at Old Gregg, who was now back in his regular clothes and smiling dreamingly at the newcomer. Chris coughed and said, "It's… its all right, Gregg. At least we… had our times."

"And I'll never forget them." Old Gregg said, "But it would never work. Your friends are douchebags." With that, Old Gregg lifted himself up on the wire and shouted all the while, "I'M OLD GREGG!!"

As Gregg vanished, Chris and the others looked up at the ceiling. Claire whistled and said, "Shall we go?"

Chris laughed and said, "PLEASE!!"


	6. Morals?

**Author's Disclaimer****: **I do not, nor never will own the rights to _Resident Evil_.

**Author's Note****: **I'd like to thank everyone who took the time to not only read my first ever multi-chapter comedy piece, but also give me your thoughts and reactions to my work. I did not intend for this to become anything more than a one-shot, but I realized that something like this deserved more than merely a retelling, and that it should have its shot at becoming an adventure, short, sweet, and relatively uneventful as it was. I would like to extend a heart-felt thanks to T-drift, Hobohunter, and EvilxFan for their support, and I dedicate the final chapter of _The Mighty Redfield_ to you.

Claire set down the beers in her hands and slid into the only unoccupied chair at the table where Chris, Jill, and Leon were already sitting and relating Chris's most unique adventure.

"I have to tell you guys," Chris said as he took a bite of some garlic bread, "I never thought anyone was coming to save me." He smiled at Leon and Claire and said, "It was really great that you two came back from your missions at the same time."

The duo darted their eyes at each other and nodded, "Yes…" Leon said into his beer. "What timing."

Chris smiled and slapped Leon's back. "But anyway, I'm so glad I got you guys as friends."

Claire ran a finger along the rim of her glass and said, "You know, I can't help but feel that we should be leaving this with a moral."

The others furrowed their brows and looked at Claire. "What do you mean?" Jill asked.

"Well…" Claire explained, "I mean, maybe there is some sort of moral or lesson for us here with out encounter with Old Gregg. Like… maybe we shouldn't be so quick to discard someone's feelings or emotions if only because we don't feel that way or that person is different than us. Because… well, they're still people too. Even if they are a half-man/half-fish… they still have feelings, and we should acknowledge then, even if we don't feel that way back."

The others stared at her for a minute before Leon exclaimed, "We didn't learn that!"

Claire looked startled, "No?"

"No!" Chris agreed with Leon. A rare thing indeed. "If anything the only moral I learned is that I shouldn't go fishing when I could be potentially raped by a sea monster!"

"Or maybe there isn't a moral." Jill interjected thoughtfully. "Maybe the point is that all stories don't need to have a moral in order to be enjoyable. I mean, why would we always need to have some kind of moral or ideal that we should push on society, which already pushes and pulls so many moral and social ideas on us, do we really need another 'life lesson'?"

The others stared at Jill, who said what must have been the most profound thing to ever come out of her mouth.

After a minute, Jill's eyes widened with terror and she covered her mouth. "Oh God! Did I just state that the moral is that there is not always a need for morals?!"

"Yeah!" Leon blurted out. His eyes too were wide and shifted from side to side as he stammered, "Then… that would mean that even the lack of a moral… is indeed a moral! Which negates both the idea that we always need morals AND the idea that we don't always need morals!"

"Maybe morals and ideals are ever-present and just there for those of us who want to see them!" Chris tried to reason, his heart pounding hard and fast in his chest.

"But then that negates the idea that we don't always need morals!" Jill countered fearfully. "And I was wrong!" She covered her head and began hyperventilating.

Claire, who was almost to the point of tears, said, "Let's just get drunk and forget about all this!"

The others agreed and started plying themselves with alcohol in order to rid themselves of the argument.

Three hours later, the memories of Old Gregg and their argument on morals was lost forever in the haze of a Guinness-induced fog. Claire slumped in her chair and groaned as Leon lifted his head from the plate of peanuts and asked, "Are we drunk yet?"

"NO!!" Claire said and rolled her head around again. "You know what we do when we're officially drunk!"

After a minute, Claire shouted out in song, "IT'S COLD OUTSIDE!!"

Leon smiled and joined in, "THERE'S NO KIND OF ATMOSPHERE!!"

"I'M ALL ALONE!!" Jill sang loudly.

"MORE OF LESS!!" Chris finally joined in and sang a verse.

"LET ME FLY!!" Claire sang out.

Leon pointed his head to the sky, "FAR AWAY FROM HERE!!"

"FUN!! FUN!! FUN!" Jill sang.

"IN THE SUN!! SUN! SUN!!" Chris started pounding on the table in attempt to make a drumming sound.

Claire looked at Leon and sang, "I WANT TO LIE!!"

"SHIP-WRECKED AND COMATOSE!" Leon sang back at her.

"DRINKING FRESH, MANGO JUICE!!" Jill waved her hands violently.

"GOLDFISH SHOALS!! NIBBLING AT MY TOES!!' Chris reared his head back.

"FUN!! FUN!! FUN!!" Claire cried out.

"IN THE SUN!! SUN!! SUN!!" Leon drummed the table.

"FUN!! FUN!! FUN!!" Jill sang.

"IN THE SUN!! SUN!! SUN!!" Chris finished off the song as the quartet banged on the table and fell over.

Claire huffed and gasped for air before saying, "Okay… now we're drunk."


End file.
